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Monday, April 1, 2013

Does Anyone Still Wear a Hat?

My husband and I love dressing up. And Easter is an ideal
time for dressing up, especially if you like coordinated family outfits. And especially
if you love hats. I do love hats, but unless you’re unusually fashion-forward
or unusually good-looking, the only occasions when you can get away with
wearing a hat are Easter and the Kentucky Derby. So this year, my daughter and
I wore our Easter bonnets to church.

Our congregation includes a number of older ladies who are
always stylishly dressed, so I was quite surprised (and a bit saddened) to find
that the two of us were the only ladies at church on Easter Sunday who were
wearing hats. I had been looking forward to admiring some lovely Easter hats!

When I was a little girl, the excitement of Easter was not
just the promise of candy left by the Easter bunny, but of a whole new outfit
that included a dress, white shoes, white gloves, a white purse, and a hat. I
always felt so grown up and elegant in my outfit, mainly because of the hat and
gloves.

Another early hat memory is also from my church. I was
raised in a large Baptist church in a city with a number of other Baptist
churches, and once a year all the Baptist congregations would have a combined
service at our church, since we had the biggest sanctuary. It was always a
fascinating service for me, since it was so different from our usual Sunday
service. My church was quite conservative and sedate, a style that I would
learn in college to refer to as “back-seat Baptists.” No-one ever sat in the
pews closest to the pulpit, the pastor never said things like, “Can I get an ‘Amen’?”,
the choir sang arrangements of 100-year-old hymns, there were no instruments
other than the organ and occasionally the piano, and no-one ever stood up or
raised their arms or said anything from the pew other than a polite murmured, “Good
morning,” in response to the pastor’s greeting. But when Calvary Baptist joined
us, the church service was a whole different animal. Calvary was a Southern
Baptist, mainly African-American congregation, and they ROCKED. There was
clapping. There was a constant chorus of “Amen!” and “Hallelujah!” and “Praise
Jesus!” and “Preach it, brother!” – even while the pastor was talking.
ESPECIALLY when the pastor was talking. There were raised arms and people
stepping out of the pew. And if the pastor asked a question and you didn’t
answer it loud enough, he would ask it again and again until he got a loud enough
response. To a small child, it was fascinating and intimidating all at once.
But the best part of all was the hats.

The Calvary ladies would not have dreamed of going to church
without a hat. It was as unthinkable as showing up in your underwear. Or even
worse, PANTS. I loved to look at the ladies in their beautiful jewel-colored suits
and their magnificent hats. To my small-town eyes, they looked like flock of beautiful,
exotic birds.

My simple, white garden hat adorned with a single pink
flower doesn’t even attempt to match the striking stylishness of the hats of my
childhood. But I will continue to dip my toe in the pool of millinery in the
hopes that others will join me in attempting to bring back the hat. Derby Day
is coming, and maybe I’ll be brave enough to wear something closer to the church
ladies’ hats of my memory. Maybe something like this?